That B&W Japanese film

That B&W Japanese film we watched together at three in the morning spurred a fanciful idea in our heads, Fendi’s and mine. We planned to clam up entirely for a few days – just as a social experiment – to see what reactions this act would evoke in three girls and their respective boyfriends. We thought it a smart scheme.

The strong willed Japanese girl in that B&W Japanese film did it – we could do it too, we thought aloud. Our eyes gleamed like live coals in the tiny dark room, which belonged to neither of us. We got goosebumps from the cold because the temperature was sixteen degree Celsius, the regulator of the AC had stopped working and we lacked the initiative to get it fixed. Therefore, it was chilly in the tiny dark room which belonged to neither of us – because it belonged to a girl who got a Nambudiri Brahmin used to a life of extreme hedonism.

The truth is that we never got around to executing our little plan. The next morning was business as usual.

Looking back seven years, I think we should have seen the tell tale signs then – we only existed in each other’s ego. Nothing was good enough for us, we craved to be different, to stand out from the crowd – not necessarily to grab attention, quite the opposite. Convention would stifle us. To be made to conform was our worst punishment.  We thrived on chaos. We blossomed in each other’s ego, and stayed there.

Without our knowledge, we mastered the art of masquerading as unrestrained and free spirits because we had so much to hide. Without our knowledge, we morphed into conformists in the garb of rebels. It took only seven years for that change, but when it happened it was permanent.

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